


Sticks and Stones

by soraxtsuna123



Series: The Outsiders Requests [2]
Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bullying, Eating Disorders, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Sort Of, Starvation, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraxtsuna123/pseuds/soraxtsuna123
Summary: Jokes can hurt people. After being teased by the gang about his weight, Ponyboy develops an eating disorder.
Series: The Outsiders Requests [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821424
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Selkiesong22](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Selkiesong22).



> Request by Selkiesong22 on FFN.
> 
> Warning: Triggering content ahead. This story contains anorexia and eating disorder. The diet that is explained in this one-shot should not be replicated. This story also has slightly OOC characters.
> 
> Requests are closed on this platform.

There was a saying: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. As much as Ponyboy wanted to believe that this was true, it was not. It was far from it. Words were what made him sick; made him stop eating. Ponyboy never thought that he would ever become anorexic, but he was never able to predict the future. And it all started with a joke that was made by the gang while they were eating dinner.

The smell of food wafted throughout the house that evening, causing everybody's stomach to rumble. They all poked their heads up when they heard Darry inform them that it was dinner time. One by one, they entered the kitchen to grab a plate of food.

Ponyboy was first, excited to finally chow down after hours of not eating anything. He grabbed a plate, sitting himself down at the table after he piled his food on top of it. The others did as well, leaning against the kitchen counter to continue the conversations that they were having since there was limited seating around the table itself. Ponyboy instantly started to gobble everything down, completely content with everything around him. That was when Soda walked towards him with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"Look at you! You're sure eating a lot today," he commented, reaching over and pinching one of Ponyboy's cheeks. Grimacing, Ponyboy lightly slapped the hand away before he continued eating his food. At first, he didn't think much about it. It was just Soda babying him again. But that was until the gang started to add onto it.

"The kid's always eating a lot," Steve corrected with his mouth full of food. He pointed at Ponyboy with a fork. "I mean, look at how chubby he is."

"I'm not chubby," Ponyboy argued, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Steve, wishing that he would stop making things up. He was teasing him to get on his nerves. He always did that. But it was usually just between the two of them. Not this time though. This time, the gang decided to join in.

Darry pinched Ponyboy's cheek as well, chuckling softly.

"You've been eating well," he said. "Your face is really pinchable."

"I like that I can pinch his cheeks," Soda chirped after Darry removed his hands. They all beamed at Ponyboy who squirmed in his seat. He wasn't chubby. Sure, he might have baby fat but that was because he was fourteen. That didn't mean he was chubby. Hell, he was a runner. He burned calories like no other.

" _I'm not chubby_ ," Ponyboy grumbled but only received a snort from Dally.

" _Yeah_ ," Dally started sarcastically. "That _couldn't_ be true with how full your plate is."

At that, Two-Bit burst out laughing putting his plate down so he could clap his hands. "Pony, you're the biggest eater here. I bet you would do really well in an eating competition," he joked.

"Now, now," Darry interrupted. "He has to get a lot of strength and energy somewhere. Sure, he will gain weight, but that's what they usually want in sports… Well, that and the fact that he also needs to grow. He's short for his age and eating will help."

Ponyboy's face started to turn red with embarrassment. He shifted his eyes to his food, poking it with his fork. He didn't feel hungry anymore…

"Look at how red he's getting!" Steve cackled. "Watch out, kid! Don't blow a fuse."

"We're just messing with you, man," Dally added.

But it wasn't just "messing" with him. Each word sent a pang through Ponyboy's heart. He didn't know why the words got to him. They just did. Maybe it was because he looked up to each one of them in some way. He strived to be accepted by them and now they were telling him that he was too fat. It hurt him. He already knew that he wasn't very handsome in comparison to them. They didn't have to rub it in.

"What do you think about this, Johnny?" Two-Bit asked, still continuing their little 'joke'.

Ponyboy looked over to his best friend, hopeful that he would defend him. He had to back him up. That was what friends are for. But Johnny decided to join in on the fun as well. Excitement showed as clear as day on his face. He didn't even look sorry about what he was about to say.

"I think that you are eating a lot," he simply said. But simple wasn't even close to what it felt. He felt betrayed and, most of all, insecure about himself. He kept thinking "what if"?

They were just joking, he kept reminding himself. However, each time he thought it, he started believing it less and less. It was a cruel joke if it even was one. How could anybody joke about something like that?

Ponyboy just wanted to go back to his room but didn't want to seem like a baby in front of the gang. He was stuck listening to them tease him about his weight. He put on his best poker face even though it was strained. The corner of his lips quivered as he felt hot tears start forming around his eyes.

_He wasn't fat. He wasn't fat._

Suddenly, Darry lifted him off his chair and held him in the air to display him to the gang.

"When did you get so heavy?" he asked, astonished. Ponyboy wanted to cry then and there. The gang laughed at him, everything around him starting to blend together.

_He wasn't fat. He wasn't fat._

His vision blurred and he knew that he was going to start crying in front of them if he didn't leave. But he couldn't escape. Darry was still holding him up to the gang who had started to poke at his stomach teasingly.

_He was fat. He was fat._

Ponyboy squirmed like a worm until Darry dropped him, causing him to fall on his butt. The gang only laughed harder at him, commenting about how hard he fell. They were so caught up in their laughter that they didn't notice him start to cry. But, then again, Ponyboy tried to hide it as best as he could. He trained his eyes towards the floor, hoping that the angle of his tilted head would hide his tears. He shot up to his feet, telling them with a low mumble that he had to go to the bathroom before walking away as quickly as possible.

_He was fat. He was fat._

"Don't break the toilet! I don't want to buy a new one!" Darry called out before Ponyboy closed the door behind him.

Much to his relief, the sound of their laughter was cut off. However, it was, at that point, engraved into Ponyboy's brain. He examined his reflection in the mirror with puffy eyes after he had splashed his face with some water.

He wasn't actually fat… was he? They were just joking, right? Yeah… they had to be just joking…

But as he kept staring at himself, he couldn't help but see every detail that was wrong with him. He caressed his face, feeling his gentle fingers sink into his skin. His face was rounder and softer than his brothers. Their jawlines were practically sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Him? He was Humpty Dumpty—round and pudgy with hardly any sign of a jawline at all.

He lifted up his shirt, cringing at the sight of his torso. He didn't have abs. He didn't know how abs were what classified him as being skinny, but he ignored all reasoning. He pinched at his stomach, feeling fat between his fingertips.

He was chubby. Christ, he had gained weight.

Why did he have to look this way? Why couldn't he be perfect like how Soda was?

He really did need to lose weight. After a minute of examining himself, Ponyboy decided that a small diet would be beneficial. So, that was what he was going to do. He wanted to be skinny and make the gang proud of him. That was his final goal.

Just a few pounds…

But, little did he know, the small diet ended up becoming a slippery slope.

* * *

* * *

The diet plan was simple at first. Ponyboy decided that he was going to log down the foods that he ate within each day to keep a calorie count. He usually ate around three thousand calories per day, a result of him being a physically active male. However, the more that he thought about the number, the more that he realized how high it was. Three thousand was a lot. A human could healthily go without four hundred less than their recommended calorie limit, but that still seemed like a high number. Ponyboy wanted fast results.

A thousand calories less maybe… That sounded good. It was only a thousand calories. That wasn't going to kill him. He was going to be fine, he reassured himself.

Walking downstairs, Ponyboy smelt breakfast cooking. His stomach rumbled involuntarily. When he walked into the kitchen, Soda turned and smiled at him. He pointed at the frying pan on the stove. "I made bacon and eggs," he informed him, expecting that his brother was going to grab a plate. But Ponyboy only stared at the frying pan. He really wanted to eat it. It looked so good. However, the bacon was sizzling in so much oil that it made him feel a bit sick. How many calories did that have? Was the food a way to make fun of him for being fat?

' _Keep to your diet,'_ Ponyboy reminded himself.

He forced an apologetic smile onto his face and muttered, "Sorry, I'm not really in the mood."

At his words, Soda pouted at that but nodded, nevertheless. "What are you going to eat then?"

"Uh…" Ponyboy looked around the kitchen, opening up the cabinets. He picked up cereal boxes, flipping them over to read the nutrition label. The calorie count was too high to eat. Cereal was packed with sugar and corn syrup. It was practically carbs in a bowl. Eating all of that would make him fatter. With a sigh, Ponyboy put the current box that he was holding down to pick up the oatmeal. He flipped it over to read the label as well.

"When did you start reading the back of boxes?" Soda curiously asked.

Ponyboy put the oatmeal down on the counter, turning around to face his brother. He shrugged. "I was just curious. I'm actually going to head out now"

"Without eating anything?"

The younger brother shook his head. "I'm not really hungry right now. I'll get something to eat when I come back though."

He didn't eat anything. He didn't even notice that he hadn't had anything to eat until it was around dinner time. Even then he didn't even take much food. He took half his usual amount, something that didn't go unnoticed.

"You didn't take that much," Two-Bit commented, pointing at his half-empty plate.

"I just ate a lot for lunch, is all," Ponyboy lied, hoping that would be the end of it. But, of course, it wasn't. The gang _had_ to pick on him again.

"If you ate a lot for lunch, you shouldn't eat much now. You'll just get fatter," Steve said with a sneer.

 _Fatter_. Not just fat. Ponyboy stopped eating mid-bite, frowning at the wording that Steve chose. He purposefully said that word to make fun of him.

_Fat. Fat. Fat._

He was so fat. He shouldn't be eating at all, but he had to eat something. Ponyboy felt like he was starving and even though voices were telling him not to eat, he knew that he had to in order for him to stay healthy. He tuned out the gang to the best of his ability, slowly chewing his food.

Mashed potatoes? It had to be over two hundred calories. Gravy? Probably higher. Chicken? Even higher.

High numbers. He was eating too much food. He needed to stop, but he forced himself to continue going.

His days were pretty similar to that for the entire week. The diet was actually pretty easy for him to do. After realizing how unhealthy his diet was before—full of sugar, corn, and carbohydrates—he started to cut out food groups. He completely cut out sugar, starch, poultry, and dairy. He even started to reduce the amount of red meat that he consumed. It was hell. His powerful cravings for Pepsi and chocolate cake almost made him break multiple times.

Ponyboy continued to log down everything that he ate, not quite sick of doing the task still. So far, besides that one incident, the gang didn't notice that he lessened the amount of food that he consumed each day. It was frustrating to not be praised for working on his diet, but at least he was seeing results in himself.

His stomach looked flatter than it was before, and his jawline was a bit sharper. He didn't have a scale to weigh himself so he couldn't see his results in numbers, but there was something that he was doing right. He beamed at his reflection whenever he saw it, checking himself out as ridiculous as that was. He was proud of himself and he knew that the gang was going to be as well.

But they never noticed the change, which caused him to swim into dangerous waters when it came to his health.

* * *

* * *

One day, everybody but Soda and Steve were sitting in the living room. They were all doing their own thing as they waited for the two gas station employees to return. The gang didn't have to wait too long, however. Soda and Steve busted through the door an hour into them just lounging around, arms filled with small bags of chips.

"Look what we brought back!" Soda chirped.

"What's with the chips?" Two-Bit chuckled.

"There's a new inventory at the station," Steve answered, handing him a bag of chips. "These were about to expire so we asked if we could take them."

Two-Bit ripped his bag open, throwing a chip into his mouth and chewing on it obnoxiously. He nodded in confirmation, pointing at his mouth. "These taste like they're one day until they're expired."

Laughing, the two greasers started to hand the other bags of chips around. Ponyboy licked his lips, remembering the salty taste of chips that he had deprived himself of. He really wanted to eat them. He had been doing so well on his diet. Surely, he was able to cheat a bit. He held out his hands to have a bag of chips for himself, but, was surprised when Soda passed right by him without giving him one.

"You don't need to eat this, Ponyboy," Soda told him. "It's not good for you."

They were simple sentences, but they hurt more than ever. He dropped his hands, eyes growing wide. A sudden rush of hopelessness hit him like a train. They still wanted him to lose weight? Was all his work going to go unnoticed? He put so much work into the diet and it didn't do anything.

"It's fine," he swallowed, a cold flash running through him. "I didn't want it anyway."

He wasn't skinny. Not perfect enough. He was never going to be enough. He wanted to cry in desperation, but he held his tears in. What did he do to deserve this? Why was he being punished like this? He tried so hard, but it wasn't enough. It seemed like, at that point, he was always going to be fat.

"Are you going to cry over not eating food? Stop being such a fat ass," Steve teased, his voice sounded distant.

He didn't want to be fat. He just had to try harder. Ponyboy had already restricted what he ate, he just needed to push himself further. He didn't eat breakfast or lunch anymore… maybe he just had to get rid of dinner as well.

_He just needed to stop eating altogether._

It was a sick thought and he knew that he needed food to survive, but he just didn't care. The idea of starvation, in a way, excited him. He didn't know why it did though. But, whatever. He was going to be fine. A human could live around three weeks without eating. Plus, Ponyboy wasn't going to let it get too far. He just needed to lose weight faster.

* * *

* * *

Starvation was very different than dieting when it revolved around pain. Unlike having a "healthier" diet, which was relatively pain-free besides a few cravings here and there, starvation felt like hell in the beginning. The first week was one of the most miserable times that he had ever faced in his life. His stomach cramped up painfully at every second of the day, always feeling like he was about to throw up. He was hardly able to stand it.

He started to sleep a lot more, but that was an easy feat when he felt drained of energy all of the time. Ironically, it helped him starve himself. Ponyboy was able to sleep around dinner time so he wouldn't have to eat during then. At the end of the week, it was quite the opposite, however. Sleeping became difficult, stomach twisting so much that it made it too painful to do so. It was so painful that he silently had to cry himself to sleep to not wake Soda up. He already felt bad that he took up so much space on the bed. He began to wonder if he was going to wake up again if he fell asleep.

Ponyboy's weight dropped dramatically. He constantly found himself looking in the mirror, checking out the side of his stomach which now caved in slightly. Even though his ribs started to show, it was never enough. He was still fat. Ponyboy kept setting goals for himself: he would stop dieting after he hit them. But he never stopped; only kept going. He kept sucking in his stomach to see how skinny he could get himself, convincing himself that he had to reach that goal. Thus, new checkpoints replaced them. He found himself always believing that he could go further.

He kept looking at himself, and each time he did, it made him cry. He was never skinny enough and he hated how he looked so much. How could the gang even stand being by him when he looked like that?

He wasn't skinny enough when his legs became so thin that they looked like they would snap un his weight. He wasn't skinny enough when his ribs started to poke out like jagged edges. He was never going to be skinny enough.

It eventually got easier for him. The major cravings stopped after maybe three weeks in. He ate a few bites of food from time to time but that was it. He didn't feel the need to eat anymore. It was practically just an image purpose now.

The worst thing about the starvation though? The gang didn't even notice. They still mocked him for his weight. There was a time when Johnny offered a piece of a chocolate bar to him. Ponyboy had rejected, disgusted. He used to love chocolate, but now he couldn't stand to look at it.

"I'm not hungry," he had told Johnny. That was his new catchphrase. He said it every day. Nobody pointed it out. Nobody pointed it out until Johnny did, but he still didn't know what Ponyboy was doing to himself.

One night, Ponyboy woke up craving something. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up… and instantly had to sit back down again. His vision violently swayed, darkening around the edges. He stayed still for a few long moments until it passed. That had been happening to him all the time now, a result of him being so deficient in vitamins and nutrients. He didn't really think much about it.

He carefully tiptoed out of the bedroom to the kitchen, opening up the freezer. He grabbed the ice tray, taking a cube of ice out. It stuck to his fingertips, sending shivers down his spine. Ponyboy snatched the saltshaker off the table and sprinkled some salt on top of it. He then sucked on the ice cube gingerly, shifting back and forth on his feet. Ponyboy had started doing this lately to help him lose weight while also getting rid of his cravings. It wasn't really satisfying to do, but it worked enough.

He hummed to himself, turning around to pace the kitchen while he sucked on the ice, but froze in his spot when he saw Johnny standing at the entrance to the kitchen. His confused face was lit up by the streetlight that was outside.

"What are you doing?" he asked, knitting his eyebrows together staring at the ice cube.

"I… uh…" Ponyboy's mind went blank. His throat went dry as he tried to think of some sort of excuse. "I… er… I just had a weird craving for ice."

Johnny nodded, somehow believing his semi-true excuse without questioning it further. After the nod, his face lit up as he remembered something that he was supposed to tell Ponyboy. He pointed at the refrigerator. "There's a plate of food for you in there. Leftovers… You should eat something. You missed dinner."

Ponyboy rapidly shook his head at that, stomach twisting in disgust. "I'm not hungry. It's fine."

"You're never hungry anymore," Johnny retorted with a loud sigh, catching his friend off guard. He didn't think that Johnny noticed or cared.

"I just eat at different times."

"You should still eat something."

"I'm good. I just want to get back to bed." Ponyboy hoped that Johnny would let him by. The last thing he needed was him telling the gang and having them tease him more. He just wanted to go back to his room and try to get some sleep.

"Ponyboy…"

Ponyboy grimaced, realizing that he had no choice but to eat something. It was the only way that Johnny would leave him alone. He took a deep breath and took the plate of leftovers out of the refrigerator. Ponyboy sat down at the table after he grabbed a fork, lifting up a small forkful. His hands uncontrollably shook as he held it in the air. For a long moment, he just glared at the food on the fork. Pony felt like he was going to throw up and he hadn't even put the food in his mouth yet.

Slowly, he put the food in his mouth, forcing himself to swallow it down. He cringed as it slowly and painfully traveled down his dry throat.

How many calories were just in that bite? Too many. He was going to get fatter because of it. He told himself that he was going to try hard to not eat, but he just went against that pledge.

He was fat. He was fat. He was—

"You're not going to warm it up?" Johnny suddenly asked, snapping Ponyboy out of his train of thoughts.

He thinly smiled at his friend and replied, "I like it better cold… You should go back to sleep. I don't want you to wait for me while I eat."

Johnny sleepily nodded, yawning. He started to turn around when a thought entered his head. When had Ponyboy gotten that thin? He didn't turn back to look again, however. It was probably just the bad lighting that was making him see illusions.

He left the kitchen, curling himself back on the couch. When Ponyboy deemed it safe enough to leave himself, he shot back up to his feet, ignoring the dizzy spell. As quietly as he could, Ponyboy dumped the contents in the garbage, placing the plate and fork into the sink. He then returned to his room, praying that the incident wasn't going to be brought up to the others.

* * *

* * *

The dizzy spells got worse. They used to only be when he stood up too quickly, but they started to become more frequent. His head spun and pounded as if he were being repeatedly hit with a hammer. He massaged his fingers into his temples, shutting his eyes tightly. Christ, it hurt.

Deciding that a shower would make him feel better, Ponyboy got up and made his way to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and stripped his clothes off of his body. Ponyboy didn't stop to look at his reflection that time, knowing that he was just going to fat. Ponyboy turned on the water, steam quickly filling the room.

He tried to think of something that would relax him, but the heat was already starting to get to his brain. He dug his palms into his eyes as he swayed back and forth dizzily.

He needed to sit down, or he was going to tumble over.

However, as he was bending his knees, everything suddenly went black. The last thing that he remembered before he passed out was the tub rushing to meet him.

* * *

* * *

The gang was all hanging out at the Curtis's house again, not having anything better to do. They were all doing their usual activities—Soda and Steve were arm-wrestling, Darry was reading the morning newspaper, Johnny and Dally were talking to each other, and Two-Bit was watching Mickey Mouse. At one point, Ponyboy walked out of his room, which he hadn't been doing much recently, and entered the bathroom. They didn't think much of it, especially when they heard the shower start to run. But that changed when they heard a loud crash come from inside the bathroom.

They all shot their heads up to stare at the bathroom door, wondering what happened to make that noise. Soda was the first to move, standing up from the table. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, worry creasing his forehead.

"I'll go check on him," he volunteered, walking over to the bathroom before knocking on the door. "Ponyboy? Are you okay in there?"

There was no answer.

Soda started to become even more worried as he knocked again. Again, there was no answer. He tested the doorknob after that and found that it wasn't locked.

"Ponyboy? I'm coming in, okay?" he tried again. There was no answer, so he opened the door.

As soon as he got inside the bathroom, his eyes fell onto Ponyboy who was collapsed in the tub. His heart leaped to his throat, blood running cold. Without so much of a delay, he rushed over to his brother, grabbing a towel along the way. What he saw inside the tub almost made him throw up. Instead, his eyes went wide as the towel fell from his hands. It conveniently drifted to cover Ponyboy up, but it didn't prevent the scarring that took place in Soda's mind.

His brother was sickly pale, skin slightly discolored with a yellowish tint. His toes that were on his feet (which now seemed like they didn't fit his body) were blue and so were his thin lips. Dark bags hung under his sunken eyes, outlining the skull under his skin. But those features didn't compare to the rest of his body. Ponyboy was thin—too thin. His stomach was caved in, limbs as thin as twigs. His skin wrapped around every groove and dip of his bony body. The person in the tub didn't look like a living human at all. It looked like the scary creatures that were in horror stories and even someone who had been dead for weeks. It was not Ponyboy. But it was and Soda couldn't deny that.

"Darry!" he screamed, voice wavering. He covered his mouth with his hands, tears stinging his eyes. He didn't know what to do. What else was he supposed to do? He wasn't given a manual about what to do in a situation like this. His adrenaline clouded up his rational thinking as he continued to cry out. "Darry, get in here! Help!"

Soda didn't remove his eyes from his brother even when Darry and the gang stumbled into the bathroom.

"What happened?" Darry asked before he looked inside of the tub. He felt his heart stop. He blinked rapidly, praying that what he saw was just his brain playing tricks on him, but it was real. There was a flurry of curses from behind the two brothers as everyone just stared at the skeleton of the person that they all considered as their little brother. Their stomachs lurched at the disturbing and horrific sight. Darry quickly snapped out of his trance, fortunately, and rushed to Ponyboy's side. "We need to get him to the hospital!"

However, nobody moved. They were all too fixated on Ponyboy. Why hadn't they noticed this was happening to him? Surely, they would have noticed that drastic change… They saw Ponyboy every day. They would have noticed it, but they somehow all missed it. The gang all thought about it more, realizing then that, for a while, they never saw Ponyboy eat food in front of them. They remembered all of the times that he had made an excuse to get out of eating. Johnny even remembered the time when he saw him sucking on an ice cube and how he thought he had seen Ponyboy's skeletal outline. Why hadn't they connected the dots?

"Did you not hear me?" Darry's voice ripped through the air. "We need to get him to a hospital!"

Darry's hands shook as he touched Ponyboy's bony shoulder. But, before he could lift him up, Ponyboy reopened his eyes. They were glazed over for a while before they focused on the gang. It took a second for him to process everything. But, when he did, he sat up, swiftly covering his body with his arms as if he was ashamed of it. He was but not because he was bony. He was ashamed of how fat he was and now the gang was all staring at him.

They saw him. They saw him!

His heart pounded against his chest as panic completely took over. He had to get out of there but there was no place that he could hide his disgusting body. They were going to make fun of him again and he couldn't take that. He knew that he disappointed all of them and was an eyesore to look at. A sob escaped his throat as he curled up, showing the line of his spine that snaked up his back. What were they going to say to him now?

Ponyboy had been trying so hard to lose weight for the gang, but he didn't get far at all. He could have done better. He knew that he could have gone _further_.

"We need to get you to the hospital," Darry stated again with a gentle tone. He was relieved that Ponyboy was awake, but he was also scared that even a scream would break Ponyboy.

Ponyboy snapped his puffy eyes to them in confusion. "The hospital? Why?"

"Ponyboy… You're…" Darry couldn't finish the sentence. He swallowed his words down his throat. Why did he have to explain that? It was obvious.

The younger boy looked down, trembling. Fat tears were falling from his eyes which broke everyone's hearts (even Dally's and Steve's). "I'm sorry… I'm fat… is that why?"

The sentence surprised them all. Out of everything that could have been said, _that_ was the last thing that they had expected. _Fat_? Did he really think that he was _fat_? Examining his skeletal features only made them feel sicker. Ponyboy was going to disappear if he got any skinnier. How could that classify him as fat?

"What?" Steve gasped out, appalled. He gaped, trying to make sense of what he heard. " _Fat_? What the hell? What is wrong with you?"

"Obese, then?" Ponyboy asked, looking even more crestfallen then before. "I've been trying so hard…"

None of them knew what to do. Ponyboy just didn't see what they saw. Why didn't he see and understand how wrong everything was?

"Hold on," Darry suddenly mumbled out, running out of the bathroom. He returned moments later with a dusty scale. "I've had this back when I was in high school. I haven't used it since. Ponyboy, are you strong enough to stand?"

If possible, Ponyboy paled even more. Not only did they have to see him in person, but they also had to see the high number on the scale? No way. He was too fat. He was probably going to break the scale from his weight. However, he was forced to stand up when Two-Bit shakily lifted him up. Two-Bit's mouth dropped when he felt how light the younger boy was. If he wasn't careful enough, he could have accidentally thrown him… that was how light he was.

With the towel wrapped around his waist, Ponyboy stepped onto the scale. He shut his eyes tightly, fearing for the worst. But when he more curses and cries, he opened his eyes in confusion. He looked down. 113 pounds. When he first started, he weighed around 140 pounds. It was still high. He knew it.

Ponyboy pressed his lips tightly together, whimpering. "I'm sorry… I'm still really fat," he apologized.

" _Fat_? Why do you keep saying that, man?" Dally hissed. "Haven't you looked at yourself. You're too skinny."

Skinny? The word didn't sound right. There was no way he was skinny. It was impossible.

But then he looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw what they saw. He didn't recognize himself at all. He thought that he was fat before, but, now, he was a skeleton. He realized then that skinny didn't mean he was attractive. And all he could say about that was, "Oh…"

"Why did you do this to yourself?" Soda asked, almost incomprehensible with how much his voice wavered.

Ponyboy shook his head, licking at his lips. "I didn't want to do it… I just couldn't stand being called fat anymore."

"Who's been calling you fat?" Darry asked and Ponyboy stayed silent for a while as he stared at all of them helplessly. Did they seriously not remember all the hurtful words that spouted out of their mouths?

"You all did."

The gang fell silent. When had they called him fat? They couldn't remember even one time where that happened. When Ponyboy knew that they didn't believe him, he clarified. "You kept making fun of me for eating and being chubby."

At that, their eyes widened in realization. It was a running joke between all of them, but they thought that it was harmless. Ponyboy wasn't supposed to take it seriously, but he obviously did. They should have been more cautious about teasing him, they realized. Ponyboy was an extremely sensitive person. Then again, they should have restrained themselves from teasing in general. It didn't matter who it was or how sensitive they were.

"That was a joke," Steve defended.

Ponyboy shook his head. "A joke could be something like playing a meaningless prank on someone like holding up an invisible rope. A joke could be an inside joke with a friend. A joke is not making fun of someone about something they do or how they look. Teasing does not mean a joke. It's bullying and it ended up almost killing me."

"We didn't know," Soda whimpered, feeling ashamed of himself. He was supposed to be someone that Ponyboy could depend on. He betrayed him. They all did.

But Ponyboy wasn't having the excuse. He was so done with everything. All of his pent-up frustration was finally being released. "No, you didn't and that's the problem. How would you like it if someone made fun of you? It might be all games and fun for the people initiating the tease, but not for the recipient."

Soda's forehead creased. "We're all sorry…"

"Yeah. I bet you all are."

That stung as the gang all ducked their heads in shame. This was their fault. If they hadn't made fun of him, Ponyboy would have been completely healthy.

"I'm just so glad that you're alive though," Soda mumbled, reaching over to brush Ponyboy's hair back with his fingers.

Ponyboy chewed on the inside of his cheek before he said, "Just because I'm not dead, it doesn't mean that I'm alive."

"Ponyboy, we still need to take you to the hospital," Darry informed, extending his hand for his brother to take. "Come on, buddy."

Shaking his head, Ponyboy stepped off the scale himself. He didn't want to go to a hospital. A hospital would indicate that something was wrong with him. He knew that he was sick but going would confirm it. "I don't want to go."

"You need to get better, Ponyboy. Don't you want to get better?"

That was the million-dollar question. Did Ponyboy want to get better? It should have been easy to answer it, but Ponyboy found himself thinking long and hard on what he actually wanted. There was a sick part of him that wanted to continue starving himself, regardless of his health. It dragged him back, keeping him on a short leash. However, there was another part of him that just wanted to feel right again. Ponyboy looked at his image again in the mirror and shuttered. He hated his appearance. His image scared him because it was _him_. He didn't want to look like this anymore; he didn't want to see the scared expressions on the gang's faces again.

He nodded, swallowing thickly. "I do… I want to get better."

* * *

* * *

The process of healing was more difficult than when he had starved himself. The pain was intense, and it knocked down the rest of the self-esteem that he had. His addiction to starvation was hard to break and there were many times where the gang had to encourage him to continue going when he had given up. It was a learning process for him as it was for the gang.

In regards to the gang, they were more cautious around him. They rarely took their eyes off of Ponyboy, which annoyed him quite a bit. However, he knew that they were doing it for him and that he just had to accept that. They stopped making harsh jokes around him and stopped comparing anybody to each other, wary of their words. They couldn't mess up again. The gang all felt guilty about what they had done and seeing Ponyboy every day was a constant reminder of their wrongdoings. It was their fault and they wanted to do whatever it took to make it up to him, even though they knew that Ponyboy was never going to forgive them for it. It frustrated them because they couldn't physically do anything for Ponyboy except by being there for him and making sure that his condition didn't become worse. It was hard, but it was even harder for Ponyboy.

There were many times that the gang had found him just glaring at his food, pinching at his stomach, or staring at his reflection. There were times when Ponyboy was found throwing up in the bathroom after eating a few bites of food, stomach not used to it at all. It was miserable for them to watch, but they couldn't imagine what Ponyboy was feeling the entire time.

Ponyboy constantly found himself trying to starve himself. He tried not to, but sometimes his brain automatically urged him to do so. He found tactics to avoid eating, but the gang always ended up figuring them out in the end. One of his favorite tactics was for when he had to weigh himself every day, a task that his doctor told Darry to do since they couldn't afford to visit the hospital every week or take him to a therapist.

"Ponyboy, scale time," Darry called out one afternoon, his voice echoing off the walls of the house. Inside of his bedroom, Ponyboy gulped, knowing that he had flaked on eating a few times. His weight was going to be lower and Darry was going to yell at him because of it. Without thinking about it, he grabbed his water bottle and started to chug it all down. Afterward, he grabbed some coin rolls that he kept in the nightstand for a while and stuffed them under his armpits. Ponyboy staggered out of the room, legs still frail.

"I'm here," Ponyboy muttered, stepping onto the scale. Sweat trickled down his temple as he anxiously stared down at the scale.

"One hundred and twenty pounds…" Darry wrote down the number onto a sheet of paper with a hum. When he did so, he looked back up and smiled at Ponyboy reassuringly. "Getting better! Good job, Ponyboy."

Ponyboy thinly grinned, about to step off the scale when one of the coin rolls slipped out, falling onto the floor. His heart skipped a beat as he inwardly cursed. There goes that tactic. Darry turned to him in disappointment, an expression that Ponyboy always hated. He dipped his head down, pressing his nails into his palms. "I'm sorry…"

Darry sighed. "You can't keep doing this…"

The younger of them briefly nodded. "I know… I'm trying to get better but it's so _hard_."

"I know it is," Darry confirmed, putting a hand onto his shoulder. "You can do it, Ponyboy. I know you can and all of us are going to be there with you the entire time."

If there was one benefit that came out of him becoming anorexic was that Darry had started to be gentler and more supportive. He smiled, truer this time. "Thanks, Darry…"

"Of course… Now, it's time to get some food. Just eat as much as you could, okay?"

Ponyboy nodded. It was a struggle to eat, but he knew that he was going to eventually get better. Everybody in the gang was patient with him which encouraged him a lot. He kept reminding himself that he wasn't just doing it for himself, but he was doing it for the gang as well. He had to get better, even though healing was a marathon. There was one saying that he used to go by, but it needed to be changed: Sticks and stones may break his bones, and words will always hurt him… but friends and family will always be there to pick up the pieces.


End file.
